WRITING FROM THE COUNTRY OF THE HEART

Volker M ≈ Purchanse To Dream

it has bin sed that one dreams only when one is asleep & yet i dream
at times with my ‘i’s wide open shut…

& tho sleep may be a reward for sum of us, for others it is a
torture…

ah yes, to sleep, as has also bin sed & perchance to dream – done wud
thimk this was the krem de la krem of existenz -but then again, as i
was taught, don’t believe everything u ‘here’…

konjekture is part & parsel of the kommerse of kommunal kommonality
that all of us share, all of us, all of us, all of us, ad nauseum from
‘hear’ to kingdumb kome…

isadore dukasse’s Maldoror puts a piese of wood between his ‘eye-lids’
to keep awake & protekt himself from ‘god’s spying – dreams which in
their ‘seaming’ illogikality kan be unravelled, interpreted & used as
evidense against the dreamer slipping freudianesquely into the far
reaches of space where he (the dreamer) is bombarded insessently by
weird unkontrolled images that skratch the skreen of konsciousness in
‘his’ ever loving ‘mined’…

when i dream, i am not free in the same way that i am not free when i
sit in a theatre, watching bemusedly or in a state of terror as images
overwhelm the ‘eye’ that ‘i’ imagine my self to be though neither of
those ‘i’s is truly me bekause ultimately i rejekt the passivity of me
a lone, here in the 12th row, after everybody else has gone & the
lights turned low & the last usheress turning off her hand held lamp
to kollapse into a seat two rows from the projektion rhume where the
projektionist, with his hand on the small of a woman’s back, klicks
the door into its jamb while the woman nuzzles his ear so that he
doesn’t hear the whimpering in the silent dome…